


If We Go Now

by TheRedWulf



Series: Stansa One Shots [39]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Banter, Baratheon babies, Eloping, F/M, Fluff, Gift, Kings & Queens, Married Couple, Married Life, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, War, Wit, World War II, admiral - Freeform, married, stansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Historical - In which a national hero returns from war and finds his true home...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister, Stannis Baratheon & Sansa Stark, Stannis Baratheon/Sansa Stark
Series: Stansa One Shots [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405915
Comments: 46
Kudos: 179





	If We Go Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ineedminions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedminions/gifts).



> Here we go again! Back to the 'Picset Challenge' series! What does that mean? This is where I take reader-made picset submissions through my discord, [The Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/), and write a short blurb/one shot for reach one. It can be any pairing that I normally write, and any era, trope, etc. I really wanted to challenge my brain to see something unique and surprising in each set, and so far it's been a blast!
> 
> This picset is from "[INeedMinions](https://ineedminions.tumblr.com/)"!  
> Pairing: Stannis x Sansa = Stansa  
> Universe: World War II Era  
> Trope: Admiral Stannis (no trope given)  
> Rated: T for language
> 
> Why is Robert/Cersei included on the main relationship? Because they're the adorable King and Queen we deserve and they are in this story more than initially planned. You know how much I love my snarky Cerbert ;) 
> 
> I *really* took liberties with both Westeros history and WWII history, smashed them together and made this...whatever this is. I didn't want to put the focus too much on WWII and all of its....well, you know. Also, it is MUCH longer than anticipated....sorry. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Not a writer, not beta'd, the usual yadda, yadda, yadda...

**Fall 1945 - The End of the World War, End of Targaryen Reich**

“Have I mentioned how grateful I am that this damnable war is finally over with?” Cersei Baratheon, Queen of the Realm sighed as she lifted her tea cup and saucer. 

“Only a dozen or so times, Your Grace” Sansa replied, pouring her own tea. She had worked closely with the Queen for two years now, having come into her employ when Sansa’s parents were taken by the violent war. 

As the only Stark child and once-heiress to the Northern Oil fortunes, she had very eagerly accepted the offer of employment from the King--her Father’s closest friend. She had started as an underling, but quickly worked her way up to the Queen’s aid and closest confidant. 

“He’ll be here in two days, you know,” Cersei said. 

“Who?” Sansa asked before she sipped her tea. 

“My good brother,” Cersei explained. “Robert is determined to throw him a parade, which of course he vehemently objects to.” 

“From what I have heard of Admiral Baratheon, attention is the last thing that he would want” Sansa added. 

“Well then he should have thought about that when he decided to annihilate the last of the Targaryen fleet on his own” Cersei quipped, laughing softly as she shook her head. “I can hardly believe it’s over” her voice took on a tone of wistful disbelief. “I thought we were to be at war for the rest of our lives.” 

“So did I” Sansa agreed softly. “So much has been lost but finally the dictator Aerys Targaryen is dead, his dragon’s fleet is gone, and we can sleep easy.” 

“Easier--Robert snores like the devil himself” Cersei smirked. 

“Easier then, Your Grace. As you say.” 

“You’ve spent every day with me for the last eighteen moons, you know my secrets, and yet you still insist on formalities” Cersei mused. 

“I do” Sansa nodded. “You are the Queen, Your Grace, a position that should be respected--even by those closest to you.” 

“Ever the proper Little Dove” Cersei smiled, picking up her cup once more. “I am going to need your help with Stannis.” 

“My help?” Sansa’s eyes went wide. 

“If anyone can charm him into attending the array of dinners and whatnot, it is you” Cersei elaborated. 

“Me?”

“Please” Cersei scoffed. “You could charm anyone you set your mind to. You’re far more tactful than myself in all regards. Since you’ve started working as my chief of staff, everyone finds me much easier to deal with” she added flippantly, forcing Sansa to hide her smile behind her tea cup. 

“As you say, Your Grace.” 

“So I will depend on you to make sure that Stannis shows up when needed” Cersei explained and Sansa nodded in reply, knowing that she would do as the Queen asked regardless. 

Because of the war, Sansa had not yet met the King’s younger brother Stannis yet. She had met Renly of course, though Renly was now working hard as an Ambassador in Highgarden. But Stannis had been away with the fleet since the war began and had not been back to the capitol. 

The King, she knew, found Stannis' avoidance of royal obligation ridiculous but Sansa could not find it within her heart to fault a man who took up arms to defend his people. Stannis had been an enlisted man in his younger years, and when the Targaryens sent their dragons-- their u-boats, towards Shipbreaker Bay, Stannis had not hesitated to answer the call for help. 

The Targaryen dictator in Dragonstone, Aerys, had grown tired of the Baratheon rule in Westeros and began gathering his people--willing or not, to serve in his armies. For those who were unwilling, their families were also imprisoned and they had no choice but to serve, to kill. He even sent an army to Essos, enslaving millions and forced them to fight his war. He was a monster in the truest sense of the word, and with his children Daenerys, Viserys, and Rhaegar leading their weaponized slaves, he sought to conquer the world. Even if he had to burn it all down in the process. 

It had been a long and bloody war, with so many cities leveled and too many innocent lives lost. King's Landing was nothing but charred rubble now and would have to be rebuilt, so in the meantime Storm’s End had become the new capital and home of the royal family. So logically it would now be where the ‘national hero’ who had ended the war would be celebrated. Fitting since it was his ancestral home. 

A Prince, an Admiral, Commanding Officer of _The Fury_ and Commander of the Westerosi Navy at large, he had taken bold action that had entrapped the Targaryen fleet in a classic pincer movement. Together with help from the sophisticated Black Falcon flight squadron led by Sergeant Jon Arryn, they decimated the entire dragon’s fleet in a single attack that gave them no choice but to surrender. 

King Robert was now determined to have an entire moon filled with celebrations in his Brother’s honor; from ceremonies to parades and everything in between, it was sure to be a chaotic and busy schedule. 

She was alright with that, however, since being busy made the time pass quickly and made it easier to to forget--for the moment, that she was the last Stark. To conceal the sudden onslaught of emotion, her eyes fell to her tea, admiring the golden amber liquid for several seconds. If Benjen, Robb, or Jon had survived the front, they would have been coming back North soon--which meant they would go to Winterfell and see it gone, blown to ashes. 

“Sansa” the Queen’s voice pulled her from her maudlin musings and she immediately looked up. 

“Yes, Your Grace?” 

“Are you well?” 

“Of course” she nodded. “Just thinking.” 

“The war has changed everything,” Cersei said softly. “It will be some time before things resemble anything close to ‘normal’ again.” 

“I know” Sansa agreed. “Some things I don’t think will ever be normal again.” 

“No” Cersei nodded idly. “Everything is going to change” she added cryptically and Sansa wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret the Queen’s words.

“Robert, how many times do I need to tell you that this is ridiculous?” Stannis argued, pacing to the floor-to-ceiling window beside the King’s desk. In a fit of frustration he tossed his uniform cap onto his brother’s desk, grateful he’d seen to the shorning of his hair before arriving at the palace.

“The people need a reason to celebrate, Stannis, they need something to be happy about” Robert reasoned. “Hells, they’ve earned it and I mean to give it to them. We’ve all been through hell, some more than others. We deserve some revelry and you deserve to be recognized for what you’ve achieved.” 

“It’s a waste of coin,” Stannis replied. “Coin we’re going to need to rebuild this bloody country--and I did only my duty, nothing more, stop acting as if I saved the whole damned world” he added, bristling at the idea of being the center of attention for whatever his Brother had in mind. 

He’d been away for over five years, most of which were spent on the open water where he did his best to stay one step ahead of the enemy. It was long, tedious days of charts and strategy, days he was glad to put behind himself now. He would always have a tendre for the open water, but feeling the land beneath his boots did much to remind him that peace had come at last.

He was looking forward to returning to his work with the Small Council as Master of Ships, and the new task of rebuilding all that had fallen. Perhaps that would be enough that his Kingly Brother would forget to badger him about finding a suitable bride. At least for a little while.

“You did save the world, Stan. Gods, you far exceeded your duty” Robert sighed. “As it stands you are my heir, Stannis. If something happens to me, this realm will turn to you as it’s King. Yet you did not hesitate to take up the responsibility of leading the Navy, of laying siege to the Targaryen fleet and putting your life in danger.”

“My duty to this realm--royal or not, is to protect if from those who would seek to cause it harm” Stannis shook his head. “There is no celebration needed for that, Brother.” 

“Still” Robert crossed to his Brother’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Give our people this happiness. Then we can worry about rebuilding the realm. I’m closing in on forty, you’re a man in his thirties that has conquered the world. There is so much to celebrate” he said softly as the door to the office opened and the Queen appeared. His Good Sister looked unchanged, as poised and polished as ever as she walked to Robert’s side. 

“Welcome home, Stannis” she greeted him but Stannis hardly heard her because his entire focus had gone to the woman who entered at the Queen’s back. 

He had never seen her before, he knew this for a fact because he would have remembered her to his dying breath. Tall, elegant, and far more beautiful than any he had ever seen, she was a siren to be sure. She was the sort of beauty that men went to war for--that men would die for, right down to the vibrant blood-red lipstick on her lips.

“Sansa!” Robert beckoned. “Come and meet my little brother!”

“As you wish, Your Grace” she answered, her Northern accent rich and crisp. She walked into the office with a graceful stride to rival the Queen’s, extending her hand to him. “It is an honor to meet you, Admiral Baratheon. I am Sansa Stark, the Queen’s chief of staff.” 

“The honor is mine” he took her hand, her slender fingers wrapping around his. He was unsure where to focus; be it on her vibrant blue eyes? The auburn fire of her hair? Her stunning smile? Or the direwolf pin on the lapel of her tailored jacket. Direwolf… “Stark you said?” 

“Yes, Admiral” she slid her hand from his, leaving his hand feeling bereft at the loss of her touch. 

“Then that would make you---” 

“Lady Sansa Stark, yes” Cersei cut in. “She insists on _not_ using that title, so we honor her wish even if we don’t understand it.” 

“The Starks are gone, Winterfell nothing but a pile of rubble now” Sansa said softly, her eyes shadowed for a brief seconds before she concealed whatever emotion he had witnessed. “There is no need to use the title” she turned back to him. “I am sure you’ll tire of hearing it, but thank you for what you have done for us--all of us.” 

“There is no need to thank me” he gave a small nod. “I am only glad to have been of service. And allow me to express that I am very sorry to hear about the loss of your parents, they were honorable people.” 

“Thank you, Your Grace” she bowed her head in deference. “It is good that you’ve safely arrived, I am looking forward to the coming week,” Sansa gracefully changed the subject and Stannis could clearly see why Cersei had promoted her so, she was very tactful. Elegant in both posture and manners, her hands rested demurely in front of her. She wore no jewelry save a silver band on her right ring finger, a grey diamond resting in an intricate setting--an heirloom perhaps. “I know that His Grace the King has much planned.” 

“Does he?” Stannis raised a brow, glancing at his smug looking brother. 

“It will be a grand and wonderful celebration,” Cersei added. 

“I am especially looking forward to meeting the members of the peerage that are due to arrive in the coming weeks” Sansa’s smile was genuine and it struck him in the heart a split second before something else struck him. 

“Peerage?” he turned to glare at Robert. “No. Absolutely not. No.” 

“Of course the peerage” Robert smirked. “You’ve done your duty to the realm, now it’s time to do your duty to your title.” 

“Robert--” 

“You’re still a prince, Stannis, like it or not” Robert reasoned and from the corner of his eye, Stannis could see that Sansa was chewing on her lower lip, clearly concerned that she had overstepped.

“We’ll discuss this later” Stannis said curtly, turning back to Sansa with the need to ease her worries. “Now then Lady Stark--”

“Call me Sansa, please I insist, Your Grace” she interjected boldly and Stannis heard Cersei’s chuckle. 

“Sansa” Cersei chimed in, the breeziness of her tone surprising Stannis. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you to brief Stannis on the agenda while escorting him to his wing of the palace? I would like to steal the King for a moment.” 

“Of course not, Your Grace, I would be happy to,” she nodded to the Queen. “Shall we, Your Grace?” she looked at him expectantly.

Sansa knew that her hands were trembling as she walked through the halls of the Storm’s End Palace beside Admiral--no, Prince Stannis Baratheon. She had seen photos and videos of him throughout the war, knew that he looked far away from the rounded, jovial appearance of the King, but she was ill-prepared for how physically imposing Stannis was face-to-face.

Even in her modest heels, the top of her head barely reached his shoulders--shoulders currently encased in the sharp wool of his uniform coat, medals and insignias on full display. She felt inadequate in comparison; though her jacket and skirt were designer thanks to Cersei, still she felt as if she wasn’t dressed fine enough to be in the presence of Prince Stannis. 

Prince...Gods, he was a Prince. So was Renly, she mentally reasoned, but Stannis was so much… _more_. Wait, she was supposed to be doing something...but what?--

“The agenda!” she said suddenly, unable to stop the words from spilling free once her brain kicked into gear. 

“I am almost afraid to hear what sort of agenda my brother has planned” Stannis quipped dryly, his lips twitching in amusement. “Please tell me he hasn’t sent for a three-ring circus or fortune telling gypsies?” At this, Sansa drew to a stop, turning to look up at him. His navy blue cap was tucked under his arm, leaving his cleanly shaven head and face on full display which meant she could admire his chiseled features. 

“If you’re nice” she smiled, her heart suddenly feeling lighter than it had in a considerably long time. “I will tell you the agenda, who the King has invited, and then I will tell you all of the places that you can hide in order to avoid these aforementioned people and celebrations.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being nice,” he replied dryly. “But I find that I am keen on knowing your secrets, Lady Stark.” 

“My secrets? I am afraid that I don’t have many, I am terribly boring,” she felt herself leaning closer and shifted back, reminding herself that she was in the presence of royalty and she needed to hold onto decorum at all cost. 

“I somehow doubt that entirely” he reasoned. 

“Perhaps a few” she couldn’t help but smile.

“All of them,” he said, his voice deep and steady. 

“Oh” she exhaled, watching him as he watched her. She wondered if this is what prey felt like, trapped in the sharp eyes of an apex predator, unable to move or flee--but unwilling to try as well. She didn’t want to go, didn’t want to move; she was content to stand here in his trap. 

“Including where to hide” he added, the fog in her brain clearing just enough to hear him. 

“As long as you do not reveal me as your source, Your Grace, I will act as your spy” she agreed, wondering if by doing so she would be able to steal more moments like this with him. “I can hardly have the King blaming me for his foiled plans.”

“He’s trying to marry me off, isn’t he?” he chuckled, the sound rich and heady, she suddenly felt quite overwhelmed. 

“As you say, Your Grace” she replied, finding that she rather liked Stannis’ blunt candor. 

“How long have you worked for the Queen?” 

“Almost two years,” she explained. “When my parents---” she broke off, staring at the purple medal over his heart for a few seconds before meeting his eyes. “When my parents died in the bombings, I didn’t have anyone left to turn to. I came to his majesty King Robert--I prayed upon his friendship with my father, I confess. I begged for employment and I began working initially as an assistant.” 

“And now you are the Chief of Staff” Stannis added. 

“I am” Sansa admitted with a small smile. “Queen Cersei and I have a similar disposition. I may be as bold to claim that there is a friendship between us.” 

“Disposition?” 

“Perhaps, sense of humor is a better term?” Sansa laughed. “We’re both rather….dark? Overly honest? Blunt?” 

“I see no fault in any of those. Honesty is one of the best qualities a person can possess” he replied. “Speaking of, what business does my good sister have you flitting off to this afternoon?” 

“None, Your Grace” Sansa smiled. “The afternoon is mine. For the sake of honesty, I confess I only joined the Queen in her march to the King’s offices so that I may meet the man everyone has declared a ‘national hero’,” she explained, returning her eyes to the medals over his heart for several seconds as she summoned the courage to meet his eyes. 

“Then perhaps you would not be opposed to taking lunch with me” his offer surprised her but she concealed it well. “It has been a very long time since I’ve enjoyed a relaxing lunch--even longer since I was in the company of a woman so beautiful.” 

“Your Grace” she felt breathless. “I am but an employee--” 

“You are Lady Sansa Stark,” he corrected gently. “And from the pain in your eyes when your title is spoken aloud I would guess you are the last Stark, for which I am very sorry” he words struck true and she took a ragged breath. “Take lunch with me, let us escape all that has been lost and focus on what could be found if we looked in the right places.” 

“I--I...yes, I would be delighted, Your Grace. Thank you for the invitation.” 

“And we shall both leave our titles aside. Call me Stannis, please. I insist” he offered his elbow. 

“Alright then, Stannis” she took his arm, absently tracing the gold braided trim on his jacket as he escorted her away.

“It is disrespectful is what it is” Stannis keyed into the shrill voice that echoed from somewhere down the hallway. “It cannot be borne!” 

“Lady Florent, please try to understand--” 

“It seems I will just have to take this matter up with the Queen herself, rather than her lackey” the voice cut off Sansa’s smooth, patient reply and Stannis’ feet turned towards the origin of the sounds. “What help could you possibly be anyway, you clearly do not understand how to treat a member of a respected house.” 

He had been back in Storm’s End for just over a fortnight now and he found that the most pleasant part of being here was being able to share Sansa’s company. Their first lunch together had lasted for so long that it became a dinner as well. Conversation came without effort or pause, and he quickly learned that Sansa had not lied when she said that she shared a similar disposition with Cersei. Her mind was singularly bright with a wit sharper than any blade. 

After they had parted ways, he found himself constantly seeking her out, both with his eyes and with his feet. He watched as she helped the Queen prepare for the influx of guests and admired how she took control of each situation and detail, following them through to completion. While she was firm, she never raised her voice or lost her temper; she held composure at all times. 

On more than one occasion, he had _happened_ by as she took her luncheon, sitting with her in the private corner of the rose gardens, soaking up her presence the same as the rays of the sun. Anytime he could escape Robert’s constant houndings, meetings, and appearances, he only sought to return to her side to relish in the peace that he found there. 

“Forgive me, Lady Florent, but I will remind you once again that I am not a lackey. I am the Queen’s chief of staff and it is my duty to follow her directions to the letter. Surely you can--” 

“Duty” the woman scoffed as Stannis reached the corner, his vantage point putting him at the woman’s back, directly in Sansa’s line of sight. Sansa spotted him right away, their brief moment of eye contact revealing steely determination in her bright blue eyes. “I am here on the King’s _personal_ invitation, which I am sure you are well aware of for what reason. I will be a Princess soon and I deserve to be treated as such.” 

“To my knowledge, there were six _personal_ invitations extended by His Grace the King,” Sansa made a show of glancing at the ledger tucked into the crook of her elbow. “That gives you a less than a 17-percent chance of becoming a Princess--if my math is correct.” 

Stannis quickly turned away, pressing his back to the wall as he covered his mouth with his hand to avoid laughing out loud. Still, he couldn’t stop the unfamiliar smile that formed on his lips and made his cheeks ache. 

“How dare you! I will have your job for this! You will never work a respectable job again!” the woman threatened, which immediately had Stannis pushing away from the wall and squaring his shoulders as he stepped around the corner. He closed the distance with a confident stride, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks in an attempt to look casual, and did not stop until he was at Sansa’s side facing the infuriated woman. 

“Your Grace” Sansa gracefully curtsied. “Allow me to introduce Lady Selyse de Florent, recently arrived from the Reach” she smoothly made the introduction, since the lady in question was busy gaping like a fish out of water. 

“Of course” he put on his best political expression, but kept his hands in his pockets, he would not extend this woman the courtesy of a formal royal greeting. “Welcome to Storm’s End Lady Florent. I do hope you enjoy your stay.” 

“Your Grace” Selyse finally gathered her wits, lowering herself into a curtsey. “What a pleasure to renew our acquaintance.” 

“Just so,” he replied coolly, though he had no memory of ever meeting her before. Instead he looked to Sansa, “If you are finished with the Queen’s business, I have need of your assistance.” 

“Of course, Your Grace” Sansa nodded, turning back to Selyse. “If you will excuse me, Lady Florent, it seems that I have more important matters than your balcony to attend to.” Her curt words were met with only huffing, puffing, and the slamming of Selyse’s bedroom door as she vanished inside. “She was simply lovely, wasn’t she?” Sansa quipped. 

“A real peach,” he smirked. “16.6-percent by my best calculation, by the way.” 

“I suppose that means my math was correct” Sansa sighed dramatically. 

“16.6 and rapidly dropping” he added and Sansa’s laughter echoed in the hallway. “So that was Lady Selyse de Florent.”

“There was nothing ladylike about her” Sansa lowered her ledger, holding it in front of her waist. “Do you often lurk in hallways, Your Grace?” Her smile was devastating and he nearly lost his ability to form words. 

“I heard the commotion and sought to provide assistance” he paused. “I should have known that you would be more than capable of handling the issue yourself.” 

“I have no doubt that she will go to the Queen with her complaints, rant and rave to her heart’s content” Sansa gave a small shrug. “I am not concerned about my position.” 

“No?” 

“No” her eyes softened with amusement. “The Queen is more likely to laugh in her face than reprimand me. Her Grace suffers fools even less than I do.” 

“Truer words were never spoken” Stannis agreed. 

“Now then, you needed my assistance with something?” she prompted. 

“Ah yes, important business that” he pulled his hands from his pockets and made a show of checking his watch. “You see, it is time for tea but I find that no one but you adds the perfect amount of lemon. Could I impose upon you? For both assistance and company, of course.” 

“Oh I see” her eyes shone brightly with something he couldn’t identify; he could only hope that it was some blossoming of affection rather than mere tolerance. His heart clenched in his chest as she stepped closer to his side, looping her hand over his elbow. “Tea does sound lovely.” 

“Indeed” he escorted her down the corridor, their conversation from where it left off last evening when they parted ways after dinner. They were so lost in their conversation, neither of them noticed the slender figure watching with a smile as they vanished down the stairs. 

“Is everything set for the ball tomorrow evening?” Cersei asked from her position near the window, turning to see Sansa checking her notes. It was still early, the sun making its way up from the horizon, but they were both early risers and enjoyed getting ahead of the day’s requirements. 

“Yes, Your Grace” Sansa confirmed, going on to rattle off several details of tomorrow night’s festivities as she finished situating the tea tray on the sideboard. Cersei listened of course, but did not memorize the information since she knew that Sansa had everything handled.

She would admit only to Robert in the privacy of their rooms that she had greatly doubted the little dove when she’d first arrived in the capitol. An unworldly girl in her early twenties, Sansa had seemed shy, almost timid and her wardrobe left much to be desired--a side effect of the ruined North. Though Cersei had only been briefly acquainted with Lady Catelyn Stark, she had not been impressed by the woman’s manner or tone. She had expected the daughter to mirror the mother, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. 

While Sansa was kind and graceful, as she settled in it was revealed that she also had a spine made of Northern steel and a tongue that could cut nearly as deeply as Cersei’s own. Nearly. When the time came to choose her closest aide and confidant, Cersei had not hesitated in offering Sansa the role. She hadn’t been surprised when Sansa accepted, but she was taken aback when Sansa asked that she not be called by her title. 

_“I would prefer to go unnoticed as I work”_ Sansa had reasoned but Cersei suspected that it was simply too painful to be reminded that her family had been gobbled up by the war. 

Still, Sansa kept her strength and poise at all times, even when dealing with unruly and entitled members of the peerage. She had nearly burst into laughter at the scene in the corridor yesterday, Sansa was correct in her assumption that Cersei would not reprimand her for her dealings with Lady Florent--the woman was insufferable. But she had nearly died of shock when--of all people, Stannis had stepped in to ‘rescue’ Sansa. 

Imagine that. A man that Cersei had thought impossible to have his head turned, acting the gallant knight. Cersei felt a smug satisfaction at having been right about one thing: Sansa could charm anyone and she had certainly captivated Stannis.

“Your Grace?” Sansa’s voice interrupted her musings. 

“I apologize, I was wool-gathering” Cersei turned to face the younger woman. 

“I shall leave you to your privacy” Sansa nodded, closing her ledger. “I will handle the final details and prepare everything for the party. It will all be settled within the hour.”

“I trust you will” Cersei watched as Sansa turned to go. “Before you go...” 

“Yes, Your Grace?” 

“Send my good brother to me please, straight away” Cersei asked, keeping her features schooled. “I have urgent business to discuss with him.”

“Of course,” Sansa replied before quitting the room. As always, Sansa did not waste time and only minutes later Stannis was entering her offices, a concerned expression on his face. 

“Is something amiss?” he asked once the door had shut behind him. 

“I wanted to have a frank discussion with you,” she explained, crossing to the sideboard. “Man to man, away from prying eyes and ears” she poured herself a cup of tea, pausing with the with a motion to a second cup. “You?” 

“No, thank you.” 

“Of course” Cersei set the pot aside and picked up her cup and saucer. Of course he would not take tea with her, she thought to herself and almost smiled, she couldn’t perfect the lemon as Sansa did. “How are you enjoying---.” 

“If you would please do away with the small talk” he cut off her pleasantries. 

“Straight the point, of course” she smiled, leaning against the edge of her desk. “Robert’s invited six women in the hopes that you’ll choose one of them to marry.” 

“I am well aware” he ran a hand over his face.

“You know better than I do that when Robert gets an idea into his head, there is no stopping him” Cersei sipped her drink, savoring the perfection of the tea. “He will see it through to its completion.”

“He’s been like that since he was a boy. Like a dog with a bone” Stannis paused. “So why the private audience?” 

“Because” she set her cuppa on the desk and stepped closer. “Robert won’t stop until he gets what he wants, but what he doesn’t realize is that you’ve already made your choice. You’re already going to give him what he wants.”

“Cersei--” 

“Aren’t you,” she smirked, watching the realization wash over him. 

“I see” he cleared his throat. “Who told you?” 

“No one, I am not as stupid as some seem to think I am. I have eyes, Stannis, I use them.” 

“I had thought it wouldn’t be quite so obvious.” 

“It was only because you are known for your stoic facade. I’d never seen you smile until these past sennights. Clearly she affects you.” 

“She does.” 

“She is a Lady,” Cersei reasoned. “Of noble birth to an old house--one of the oldest.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” his eyes narrowed and she couldn’t blame him, they hadn’t been particularly candid with each other in the past. 

“I tolerate most people as duty demands. There are only four people in this world that I like, Stannis, and only two that I love,” she said. “And yesterday, one of those two people looked up at you like you hung the very stars in the sky, and you looked down at her as if she were the miracle of The Maiden.” 

“You saw.” 

“I did, Lady Florent’s screeching was hard to miss” Cersei returned to her cup, finishing the last of her tea before picking up the small velvet pouch on her desk. “Here is the brass tacks; Robert cannot force you to marry a woman of the _peerage_ if you’ve already married a woman of your choice” she faced him, raising her brows at the implication of her words. 

“I see” he repeated, smoothing a hand over his tie. 

“I’ve never had a sister, I think I should like it” she mused. “But only if it's her,” she added. 

“Cersei--”

“You’ve already won the war to save the realm, Admiral,” she tossed him the pouch and he deftly caught it. He knew as well as she did what was inside, what it would mean. “Now it is time to do something for yourself.” Stannis stared at the pouch for several seconds, a heavy silence hanging between them, neither speaking as the weight of her words soaked in. Eventually he tucked the pouch into his pocket and broke the silence. 

“You will make my excuses to the state dinner guests this evening?”

“Of course” Cersei smiled a genuine smile. 

“Then…” he took a deep breath. “If all goes well, I will see you at the ball, good sister.” 

“Good luck” she called after him. “Not that you’ll need it.” 

By the time Stannis found Sansa his heart was racing and hands were sweating in sheer terror. While part of him was nearly breathless with anticipation of what he was about to do, another larger part of him was fairly certain that his corporeal body was still asleep in his room because surely this was a dream. 

He had to have imagined his conversation with Cersei, the woman who had captivated his brother from their first meeting years ago. She had always seemed a cold, calculating sort of person to Stannis, but apparently there was much more in the secret depths of her heart than she let on. 

Enough to admit to him that she cared deeply for Sansa--and that she believed Sansa cared deeply for him. 

His near-frantic search for Sansa allowed him to form a plan in his mind--a battle plan that would help him to win the sweetest victory. 

“Stannis--Your Grace? Are you well?” Sansa appeared in the archway that led to the rose gardens, looking more than a little concerned herself. He should have known she would here, at home amidst the beautiful blooms.

“I am well” he assured her quickly. “I am…” he searched but couldn’t find the words. 

“Did the Queen give you bad news? You look stricken” she stepped closer, reaching out to touch his forearm. 

“News yes, but not bad at all” he looked beyond her into the gardens and boldly took her hand to lead her further into the privacy the blooms offered.

“You’re worrying me” she said softly as he guided her towards the bench they usually shared, one well-hidden behind a hedge. 

“I would ask first that you forgive me because I have never done anything like this before, and surely I am going to stumble through it at best” he began quickly. He wasn’t sure how much time he had before Robert once again came looking for him. He was not about to miss this window of opportunity, he knew what he wanted and he was taking it with both hands. 

“Stannis?” Sansa frowned deeply, his name in her voice urging him forward, giving him courage. 

“We both know that Robert intends to marry me off as quickly as possible, that is what tomorrow night is all about” he began. “And we both know that I have no desire to wed any ladies of the peerage.” 

“Yes” she agreed. 

“Except one.” 

“Oh, I see” her face fell, shoulders slumping and she stepped back. “Who--” 

“You,” he took her hands to halt her retreat, running his thumbs over her knuckles. 

“M-me?” she repeated. 

“You, Sansa, and only you.” 

“But I’m--we’re…”

“Every time we’re in the same room, my eyes seek you out” he said softly. “And every time I am not in your company, my feet seek you out instead. I am in your orbit, Sansa, and I never wish to leave it. I want to discover a new piece of you to fall in love with every day for the rest of our lives, should you let me” he released her hands to retrieve the velvet pouch from his pocket, pulling the delicate ring free. 

“Oh Gods” Sansa gasped. 

“It was my Mother’s, she left it to me to give to my wife” he rotated the band, the large mine cut diamond and gold setting sparkling in the sun. “I want that to be you, Sansa. Will you marry me?” he asked and she frantically nodded ‘yes’, choking on a sob as he lifted her ring finger and carefully slid the gold band into place. 

“Stannis,” she stared up at him with shock in her eyes. “I’m speechless...I...I…” 

“If we go now,” he felt his lips curl into a smirk. “We can be back in time to attend tomorrow night’s ball as _husband and wife_.” 

“You mean...elope?” 

“Precisely. How quickly can you pack a bag?” 

“You want to elope...now?” she repeated. “Oh Gods…!” she cried and in the next instant she threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to bury her face into the crook of his neck. Stannis didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her in return, holding her tightly to nuzzle against her fragrant hair. 

“I did not realize that upon my return to Storm’s End, that I would find my true home” he whispered, her body pressed against his.

“The same could be said for me” she whispered, slowly releasing him as he lowered her to her feet. A sudden frantic energy seemed to overcome her and her entire being beamed with happiness. “I have to go--I have to pack, there’s so much to do and I just, I have to start! We’re eloping!” she giggled and turned to leave but Stannis gently caught her wrist, pulling her back to his embrace. 

“First things first” he lowered his lips to hers, gently devouring her. Sansa melted against him with a sigh, her body molded to his as he dipped her back, supporting her weight as he deepened the kiss. She fit perfectly against him, lovely and warm in his arms. He could have kissed her for hours, lost in the sensation rippling through his body. It was only the need to breathe that had him pulling back, smugly admiring the smudged vibrant red lipstick. Likely his lips also bore evidence of their adore, but he did not mind. 

“Oh…” she sighed, her hair falling around her shoulders as he guided her back upright. “My.”

“Now you may pack.” 

It hadn’t been hard to locate a small Sept near the Southern cliffs of Storm’s End and it had been even less difficult to convince the awe-struck Septon to marry them that very moment. Afterall, it wasn’t every day that Prince-Slash-Admiral Stannis Baratheon made an appearance so far beyond the walls of the palace. 

With a few coins for the marriage license and a few more for the Septon’s silence, in a matter of twenty minutes after their arrival, Stannis was her husband. It wasn’t the large dog and pony show that royal weddings usually were, instead it was an intimate ceremony where the true focus was the marriage to come rather than the opulent celebration at hand. 

On the advice of the Septon they walked a short distance up the street from the Sept and found The Lighthouse Inn, which was where they were now. Hidden away in their finest room, the newlyweds shared a hearty, homemade meal and a champagne toast without prying eyes or the public’s expectations hanging over their head. 

Surely by now, the others had noticed something was amiss but Sansa felt confident that Cersei would cover for them, as Stannis had said she promised to do. Tomorrow they would deal with the fall out, but today it was just them. Today was their wedding day.

Now, Sansa and Stannis we’re sharing their first dances as husband and wife, alone and barefoot as they swayed along to a scratched record that was over a decade old. 

It was perfect.

“You are so lovely” Stannis held her close as they swayed to the music. He had shed his jacket when they’d finished their dinner, leaving him in his dress shirt, waistcoat and slacks, allowing her hands to travel across his broad shoulders. As much as she admired his crisp three-piece-suits and uniform, she was becoming quickly attached to this casual, barefooted Stannis. “Princess Sansa Baratheon, I think it suits you.” 

“And what shall I call you? ‘Prince’? ‘Husband’?” she teased as he twirled her away and then back into his arms. “Or perhaps ‘Admiral’?” 

“I much prefer ‘husband’, if it's all the same” he replied, his deep voice making her stomach flutter. 

“You’re a wonderful dancer” she smiled as the song came to an end. The glint of his signet ring caught the light and she ran her thumb over it. When everything in the North had been lost, she came to Storm’s End with only what she could smuggle and so she had focused on small heirlooms rather than furniture, clothing, or food. Her Father’s direwolf ring had been in their family for generations, and because Starks were generally bulky Northman, the ring fit perfectly on Stannis’ left ring finger. 

“It is perfect,” Stannis assured her as if sending her thoughts. She had expressed regret that she did not have a new ring to offer him, but he had insisted that this meant more than any band she could purchase. 

“It means so much that you’re wearing it” she said softly, barely above a whisper. 

“I have a Baratheon sigil of my own” he wiggled his opposite pinky finger. “But what sort of man would I be if I wasn’t honored to wear an heirloom of my wife’s house? Especially if it showed any who looked that she belonged to me, as I belong to her.” 

“You are a singular man,” she stepped closer and he wrapped his arms around her. “Everyone is going to be upset that I stole you from the marriage mart before they had a chance to woo you” she kissed his chin. 

“Woo” he scoffed. “If the _Lady_ Selyse is any indicator of what awaited me, I’d sooner ‘woo’ myself off the nearest balcony” he replied dryly, her laughter bubbling up from her stomach. 

“Husband,” she lay her head on his shoulder. “Should your warships have failed, you could have easily slain Aerys with your sharp wit alone.”

“You, my lovely wife, are part of a very small group that will ever see such a side of me” he explained. “To the rest of the world, I am and shall remain only a figurehead.”

“Do you prefer it that way?” she inquired. 

“Yes” he nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. “The intimacy of a spouse and family is sacred, and I have no need to impress or amuse anyone beyond doing only my duty. With you, Sansa, I have always only been myself, this true self. Almost as if I somehow knew...”

“Then I am even more honored to be your wife, for then I will always be able to see this side of you” she said softly. “My Stannis.”

“Only yours,” he assured her. 

“Stannis” she slid her hands to his, threading their fingers together. 

This afternoon in the rose garden when Stannis told her that he’d chosen a lady of the peerage to marry, it had taken every ounce of her strength to prevent herself from collapsing at his feet. She had been prepared for the moment in theory, but she had allowed herself to get lost in the fantasy, in the romantic bubble they’d created in their stolen moments and effortless conversation. 

In a few short weeks, Stannis had ingrained himself into the very fabric of her world and the idea of losing him and their precious moments was more than she could bear. So when the reality that he would marry another had hit her, it hit her with enough force to steal her breath. She’d already lost everyone she loved, losing Stannis would be devastating. 

But when he’d taken her hands, just as she held his now, everything had fallen into place. She was his home, just as he was hers. He loved her as she loved him, he’d chosen her and given her the most romantic wedding she could have imagined. 

Now, she wanted more. She wanted everything.

“Hmm?” he pulled back enough to gaze down at her. She tried several times to form the words, but a maidenly shyness suddenly overcame her, closing her throat. Instead, she raised his hands to kiss the knuckles before releasing them, cupping his jaw to guide his lips to hers. 

What she could not articulate into words, she voiced with her body instead, asking her husband to make her his wife in truth. To love her in all ways, in this sacred way. 

Stannis did not ignore her plea, wrapping his arms tightly around her to pull her flush to the solid wall of his chest. She could feel the warmth and power of him, the muscle honed by the most violent war Westeros had seen since the ancient War of the Five Kings. Her husband had stood in the face of incomparable violence and not yielded. 

Their mouths did not part, but their feet automatically carried them from the living room towards the bedroom—one where she had earlier glimpsed a beautiful large brass bed with a crisp floral duvet. 

It wasn’t until her hands frantically moved to his waistcoat buttons that Stannis pulled away, scooping her into his arms to carry her the rest of the distance. Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, her forehead resting against his temple in utter peace. A giggle escaped her as Stannis kicked the bedroom door shut behind them, locking them away from the world for the remainder of the night.

“Where is he?” Robert grimaced, his eyes sweeping over the crowded ballroom. 

“Probably polishing his medals” Cersei quipped dryly, laughing at her own dirty joke as she patted her husband’s arm. 

“Ha!” Robert scoffed loudly. “Unlikely! Just like you said he’d retired early last night,” he shook his head. “He’s probably run, the damned fool. He could be out on the open water by now.”

“Oh he’s run alright,” Cersei whispered, believing her words would be lost in the noise of the crowd. 

“What?” she froze when Robert abruptly took her hand. “You’re keeping secrets from me, Cee-Cee,” he smiled. “I know you well enough to know that.”

“I like to think you know me better than anyone” she smiled, wistfully watching a waiter pass by with a tray of champagne. “If I did keep a secret, it was for your own benefit.” 

“Cee-Cee,” Robert prompted. “As your husband, I’m asking. Don’t make me command you as your King.”

“Oh hush, you old codger, as if you could command me” she grabbed a glass of plain punch from a passing tray, finally meeting his eyes. “Which would you like to hear first?” 

“First?” Robert’s eyes went wide. “There is more than one?”

“Announcing His Grace, Prince Stannis Baratheon” their majordomo, Cressen, declared to the entire room. Everyone came to a halt, all eyes turning to the stairs. “And his wife, Her Grace, Princess Sansa.”

The words hung in the air, only Cersei moved to sip drink, hiding her smile behind her glass. By Gods, the stoic statue had done it, he’d actually eloped. She felt pride bubble in her chest for her good brother and admiration of Sansa’s beautiful black and gold gown, a small antlered tiara tucked into her fiery hair. 

“His what--Sansa what?!” Robert gaped as Stannis and Sansa descended the stairs together, arm in arm. 

“That’s my girl” Cersei laughed to herself. 

“Cee-Cee—!? You knew?!”

“Oh hush, of course I knew. I practically orchestrated it from the start” she repeated her earlier chastisement. “You should be the happiest man in the room,” she reasoned, continued when he only gaped in confusion. “Your stubborn brother has finally married a woman of well-respected birth and if all goes well, you’ll be a father before summer.”

“Right, Right, I---Cee-Cee” he froze, the sound of her pet-name barely audible over the rampant gossip surrounding Stannis’ arrival. His eyes were wide, uncertain and perhaps a little afraid. “You’re…?” he choked on the words and she cupped the side of his neck. 

“We’re not exactly Puritans, Bobby, you’ve been quite determined these past moons. It’s a fitting way to celebrate the war’s end, don’t you think?”

The shock that had silenced the ballroom in the wake of the Admirals sudden marriage to the Stark heiress, absolutely paled in comparison to what occurred then. King Robert, a gruff and large man known for outbursts of temper and rage, whooped with joy. He lifted his golden queen into his arms, spinning her around as his boisterous laughter filled the crowded room. 

“Well,” Sansa leaned closer to whisper. “She’s told him.”

“Told him?” Stannis turned away from the scene to face his wife, one who looked utterly ravishing in her ballgown. She glanced at those around them, those staring back with questioning eyes and shifted closer, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she spoke.

“Though I do not know the details, I do know that you will be an uncle by summer” she leaned back, smiling up at him though her expression didn’t reveal her secrets. 

“Ah” Stannis nodded, nearly smiling at his brother’s obvious happiness. He knew that Robert and Cersei had wished for this day for some time, and now it had arrived. Stannis hoped more than anything that it was a son, an heir. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him in the wake of that thought, the hope that he could finally be free of the ghost of the crown that seemed to haunt him at all hours. 

“Husband” Sansa’s hand slid from its perch on his forearm to his hand, pulling his attention to the present. “Dance with me?” 

“It would be my honor” he replied, escorting her towards the center of the room that had been designated for dancing. The entire room looked incredible, a direct result of Sansa’s hard work and dedication. Glancing at the gathered crowd he spotted Ambassadors, peerage and military leaders alike, all dressed to the nines for tonight’s celebration. 

He nodded to General Barristan Selmy, a man he had communicated with often during the war but had not seen in many moons, and made a mental note to welcome him home later. For now, he had a dance with his wife to get to.

Joining the others on the floor, Stannis held to Sansa’s hand and waist as he guided her through the steps of the waltz. As she had at The Lighthouse Inn, his wife moved gracefully--dare he say proudly across the floor. Though he found it hard to look away from the happiness that shone in her face, occasionally his eyes would move to the golden tiara in her fiery hair and then to the spot of makeup on her collarbone. He knew carefully concealed a love-bruise rested there, one that he had not even realized he put there last night, their wedding night. 

Sansa had come to their wedding bed a maiden and Stannis had only slightly more experience from his fumbling West Point days making out in the backseats of cars. He did not know what awaited them in the private intimacy of their bed, but once they’d gotten started it had all come as effortlessly as their conversations had. 

He was certain that their exhilarating activities had not gone un-overheard by the other patrons of the Inn, as they were on the receiving end of a very knowing glance from the innkeeper and other guests upon their departure. Perhaps they thought they were witnessing a scandal; their Prince and his lover, an assignation rather than a wedding night, or maybe they were simply shocked to see a Prince at all. 

Regardless, they had stumbled into the backseat of a hired car with flushed cheeks and soft laughter, snuggling together as they returned to the palace to reveal their secret. And reveal it they had--he would forever be indebted to Cersei for stealing the spotlight and inevitable deluge of interrogation that awaited them at the bottom of the stairs. 

As the song came to a close, Stannis felt a familiar presence at his side and reluctantly released Sansa’s hand to offer it to his brother, though he kept his arm around her waist. He was hyper aware of those around them, all eyes watching to see how the King and Queen was going to react to their elopement.

“You sneaky stag” Robert laughed, vigorously shaking his offered hand. “I didn’t know you had it in you!” 

“You told me to marry a suitable woman, so I did you one better” Stannis quipped, ending the handshake. 

“And what’s that?” Robert’s eyes darted to Sansa for a brief second. 

“I married the woman I love,” Stannis replied, his hand tightening around Sansa’s waist as she leaned into his side. 

“It’s a Gods-be-damned miracle” Robert guffawed loudly. 

“Language, darling” Cersei appeared at Robert’s side, patting his arm with a gloved hand. She did not stay at Robert’s side, however, she crossed to Sansa and pulled her into a tight embrace. He did not hear what Cersei whispered into his wife’s ear, but he saw the sheen of emotion in Sansa’s eyes and heard her soft ‘thank you’ as the queen stepped back. 

“Good evening, Your Grace” Sansa looked at Robert. 

“Ah, Sansa” Robert smiled down at her. “My darling little sister. I would say you’re the most beautiful Baratheon yet, but that title still belongs to my Cee-Cee” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Your Grace” Sansa replied and Stannis felt his chest clench as he met his brother’s eyes. 

“You did good, Stan, best choice you could have made” Robert nodded. 

“I agree” Stannis nodded. “I very much agree.” 

“Now then” Robert’s voice grew louder, addressing the room at large. They were all watching anyway, they may as well make them a part of the moment. “This is a celebration, is it not? We’ve won the war, beating back the mad dragons with unmatched strategy and determination. We put an end to his enslavement of innocents and returned peace to the realm” he continued and everyone who held a glass, raised it. “We’ve survived and now we will thrive! Tonight we dance and feast, remembering those who are here with us tonight in spirit only. We will toast to victory, to love” he looked to Stannis and Sansa, “And to the family to come” he turned then to Cersei, eyes bright with emotion. “To life!” 

“To life” the room echoed around them, everyone sharing in their happiness. Except Lady Florent, of course, she chose to seethe in graceful silence.

“Oh, he’s perfect” Sansa gave a dreamy sigh as she lifted the newest Baratheon from the Queen’s hold and settled him into her arms. “Well done, Your Grace.”

“Seven moons as my good sister and yet still you still insist on formalities,” Cersei scoffed, relaxing against the pillows of her plush bed. She had only been home a few short hours but was already back to her old snarky self.

Stannis would be inclined to step in and protect his wife if he wasn’t familiar with the banter between these new sisters. Sansa was more than capable of holding her own against the formidable Queen and he was more than willing to watch her do so. Besides, after that day in Cersei’s office, he had come to an odd sort of cease-fire with his good sister, which was something he never expected to occur. 

He would be forever grateful that the perceived ‘scandal’ of his elopement had been overshadowed by the announcement that the Queen was at last with child. Sometimes he wondered if Cersei had known that this was how it would play out, but he had never asked her and at this point it was moot. There was no going back, there was no him without his wife at his side.

The entire realm had waited with great anticipation throughout Cersei’s pregnancy and yesterday the royal family had the great pleasure of announcing the arrival of another strong Baratheon. A baby boy; black of hair, blue of eye, and already the apple of his parents’ eyes.

“Fine _Cersei_ ” Sansa conceded with a laugh. “May I commend you on Orys Robert Baratheon, he’s perfect.” 

“Finally” Cersei rolled her eyes. “And he is.”

“A crown prince at last” Sansa turned to Stannis, beaming up at him. “Isn’t he lovely?” It took his brain several moments to catch up, too infatuated by the sight of his beloved wife holding a tiny Baratheon baby. _I cannot wait for our own little Baratheon_ his inner monologue screamed, forcing him to push the voice violently aside. 

“He is” Stannis cleared his throat, entirely unfamiliar with the etiquette in situations such as this. He wouldn’t even be in the King’s chambers if Sansa hadn’t insisted that they visit their nephew in his first hours at the palace. 

“At least you can breathe easy now, Stannis” Robert clapped him heavily on the shoulder, shaking his entire frame. “I have an heir and you’re finally free of a burden you’ve been running from for your entire life.” 

“Another reason to celebrate” Stannis remarked dryly, sending Robert into a fit of chuckles. Just then Orys began to fuss and Sansa carefully maneuvered him back into Cersei’s arms. Stannis observed as the two women exchanged a whispered conversation and kiss to the cheek before Sansa stood tall and moved to his side. 

“We will leave you be now, to settle in properly” Sansa smiled brightly, snugging herself to Stannis’ side. “But I am so glad that all is well and you’re both healthy.” 

“Thank you” Cersei replied, though her focus was on Orys. 

“I trust you can handle everything for a few days” Robert shook Stannis’ hand. 

“Of course” Stannis nodded. “Take all the time you need.” 

“You’d have been a hell of a King, Stan” Robert smirked. “Too bad I am not sorry about my boy over there.” 

“Nor would I expect you to be” Stannis countered, tangling his fingers with Sansa’s. It was when she gave his hand a hard squeeze that he continued. “Besides, I imagine in some six-moons time you will both be there to celebrate with us in the same way” he said, the room lapsing into heavy silence for several seconds before Robert was pulling Stannis into a sloppy hug. 

“You cheeky---” 

“Language, dearest” Cersei chided her husband from the bed, Orys now nearly asleep against her chest. 

“Right” Robert cleared his throat and stepped back. “Truly?” 

“Truly” Sansa smiled and Stannis looped his arms over her shoulders. She had only broken the news to him a moon’s turn ago once she was certain, both of them wanting to keep the secret for as long as possible--not to mention they didn’t want to steal the royal spotlight that was focused on the Queen’s impending childbirth. 

That didn’t mean, however, that they hadn’t celebrated together every night since Sansa had broken the news. They’d truly been lost in the haze of their happiness. The timing was perfect, Stannis thought to himself as he turned to kiss the crown of his wife’s hair. While she didn’t know it yet, before their child arrived in this world, Winterfell will have been rebuilt--restored to its former glory. 

He had worked hard, following her great-great-grandfather Bran’s original layouts and schematics to ensure every detail was correct. Winterfell was a surprisingly futuristic venture for its day. At the same time, he had several men on site to collect and catalog anything found in the rubble that had belonged to the Stark family. Clothes, paintings, jewelry, furniture--anything that could be restored, would be restored. He would return his wife’s family to her as she had given a family to him. 

All had been moving quickly, he was hoping to take her there for their first wedding anniversary and everything was on schedule to be completed on time. Thank the Gods. He felt terrible keeping this secret from her but he knew the look on her face when she saw her family’s home once more, would all be worth it. Each time he looked at the Stark signet ring on his left hand, Stannis’ determination was renewed. He had taken down the Targaryen fleet for Gods’ sake, he could give his wife this small memento of his affection. 

“Another strong Baratheon then” Robert beamed. 

“A daughter” Stannis said before Sansa could speak. “A daughter, perhaps, with her mother’s beauty” he looked to his wife who was smiling back at him with watery eyes. 

“And her mother’s sharp tongue” Cersei added, sending Sansa into a fit of laughter. 

“We’re lucky bastards, Stan” Robert said. 

“Language, darling” Cersei sighed in exasperation. 

“Cassana” Sansa whispered, then realized all eyes had turned to her and her cheeks flushed. “I apologize, I know it is customary to save family names for the King and Queen but I think that Cassana would be a suitably lovely name for a Princess.” 

“Cassana” Stannis repeated, speaking his mother’s name aloud for the first time in decades. 

“Or Steffon” Robert chimed in. 

“Robert--” Stannis protested but his brother shook his head. 

“You have father’s look, you should have his name” Robert chuckled. “Me? I’m all warhammer and brimstone--” 

“Or so you think” Cersei interjected dryly. 

“Orys is my boy” Robert continued, undeterred. “The name Steffon is yours, should you want it” he looked to Sansa. “As is Eddard, I would assume.” 

“Thank you, Robert,” Sansa said softly, using the King’s given name for the first time. 

“Come” Stannis wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. “Let’s escape before it's impossible to do so. He’s rapidly becoming sentimental.” 

“Bah!” Robert scoffed but Stannis ignored him, guiding his wife from the room and into the corridor. They walked in silence, side-by-side and it wasn’t until they reached their private wing of the Storm’s End palace that Sansa pulled him to a stop. 

“Husband” she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“Wife.” 

“You’re relieved” she said softly and he relaxed into her embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

“More than I ever thought possible,” he whispered on a ragged exhale. 

“As am I” she admitted, holding him tight. 

“Give me a thousand warships but not a single bloody crown.” 

“I know” she soothed him, nuzzling into the hollow of his throat. “I know.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too” she replied without pause. 

“Though you would have been a glorious Queen” he smiled against the bare skin beneath her ear, feeling her chuckle against him. 

“I’d rather have you” she replied, tugging him closer to the door to their chambers. “Over any jewel or bounty, I’d take you any day.” 

“And this” his hand slid between them to cup her stomach. 

“And _her_ ,” Sansa smiled, covering his hand with hers. 

“Her?” 

“Cassana” Sansa covered his hand with hers, pulling back to smile up at him. “I just know it.” 

“Do you?” he chuckled, admiring her confidence. 

“I do, you’ll see,” she teased and he had never loved her more than he did in this moment. Her mischievous smirk, the happiness in her eyes and the glow of her porcelain skin, she was stunning.

“Would you be willing to wager?” he rose to the occasion, guiding her through the door to their chamber’s door, kicking it shut behind him which never ceased to make her giggle.

“No need, I know I’m right” she pushed his suit jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Passion had never been lacking in their marriage, something he credited to the mutual affection and admiration that had grown between them from the start. He looked forward to many decades of making love to his wife.

“You know...I hope you are” he smiled, all but chasing her to their large bed where they lost themselves in each other and forgot about the world entirely.

**Epilogue**

Stannis stood in the Great Hall of Winterfell, the rest of the royal family around him as they prepared to celebrate Sansa’s nameday. Robert and Cersei were relaxed on the large settee, Orys bouncing happily on Robert’s lap. Renly was wandering the house to admire the decor, his long-time ‘associate’ Loras at his side. Soon they would return to spoiling Orys with attention, that was certain. 

Only the necessary peerage had been invited, all of them eager to get a glimpse of the newly restored Stark home. Once news had reached society and the world at large that Stannis had gone to great lengths to rebuild his wife’s home, it became something of a romantic fairy tale, earning him more sighs from strangers than he could count.

Tonight, Stannis stood tall in his uniform, the small form of Cassana Arya Baratheon asleep against his chest. The medals and ribbons that usually attracted so much unwanted attention were now covered by her small body, which brought a smile to his lips. His darling girl was clearly her father’s daughter, much to Sansa’s feigned chagrin. Like Orys she was black of hair, light of eye, but she was utterly unwilling to surrender to sleep unless it was in his arms. 

Movement to his right had him turning to see the smug expression on his wife’s face. With each passing day Sansa grew more beautiful and here at Winterfell she absolutely glowed with happiness. He remembered the day she stepped from the car, heavy with child and a blindfold over her eyes, he helped her to her feet and positioned her just so before untying the fabric. 

He knew she would be stunned at the sight of her family’s home and he had been prepared--which was fortune when she fainted dead away from shock. He caught her with ease, carrying her inside with the assistance of their driver who opened the keep’s front door. Sansa had cried for hours, wandering the house, room-by-room, to examine every detail. Her fingers traced familiar fixtures and furniture, and her eyes grew wide at the wall of photographs in the sitting room, the faces of her family smiling back at her from their gilded frames. 

He held her while she sobbed, whispering words of love and comfort as she thanked him over and over again for returning this piece of her heart to her. He merely kissed her temple and smiled, _“I would do anything for you”_ he promised. 

“Penny for your thoughts” Sansa prompted, taking one of his hands in hers, the other resting beside his on their daughter’s back. 

“I was merely admiring my wife and how lovely she looks within these walls. The North suits you, you wear it well” he replied quietly. “And you?”

“I was thinking about how handsome you look in your uniform, as always” she teased and he smiled in return. “And about how much I love you both.”

“I’m a lucky man” he held tightly to her hand, glancing to Cassana’s dark feathery hair. “And I love you both too.” Nothing could ever rival the happiness that he’d found, holding his daughter over his heart with his wife at his side. He’d won the war to save the realm, but he knew now that he’d won the war for this--for this moment and his family. 

They’d both survived. They’d both won.

And he was damned glad of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/
> 
> Or you can join the Pack [HERE](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/) on discord!


End file.
